


Discovery

by lasersforeyes



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 15x09, Fluff, Gen, M/M, One Shot, Post-Episode: s15e09 The Trap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,201
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasersforeyes/pseuds/lasersforeyes
Summary: Just a short, fluffy scene taking place sometime after 15x09: The Trap.  Dean makes an important discovery.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 114





	Discovery

"SAM! Sam!"

Adrenaline jolts through his body like a hit from a taser. He hadn't been fully asleep, but finally dozing, after having left Dean in the kitchen with the rest of the beer.

"What!?" Sam sits bolt upright, fumbling around on his nightstand for his gun, before it registers that this isn't Dean's panic voice. 

"Sam, you gotta see this! I've made a freakin' scientific discovery!"

Dean is...grinning. Sam's heart rate returns to normal and he blinks blearily in the soft light of his room. Dean stands at the foot of the bed, one hand on Sam's leg where he jostled him awake. Sam peers closely at his expression; it's not his "I made something blow up" face, but it's definitely...impish. 

"Should I be worried?" Sam raises one eyebrow, slinging his legs over the side of the bed. 

Dean's already hurrying out of the room. "You got your phone? C'mon!"

Sam checks his pockets to be sure, calling after him. "Yeah...wait, Dean! What's this about?"

Dean's in stocking feet and he's padding quickly down the hall with that half-tiptoe, half-bounce that you do when you're wearing socks on a slippery floor and you wanna hurry a bit but you also don't want to fall on your ass. Sam squints after him. "Are you drunk?"

"SHHHHH! Be quiet, hurry up!"

Sam shakes his head with a sigh. That wasn't a "no," but whatever Dean's been up to, it's nice to see him in a good mood. In fact, he's been in a pretty great mood for the last couple days, which is surprising given that a) it's Dean, and b) they still haven't figured out a way to defeat, ya know, GOD. A few days ago, it might have made Sam dig in his heels and demand that he take their situation more seriously, but to be honest, right now Dean's reminding Sam of when they were younger, when everything was simpler and Dean grinned more, when he used to have that mischievous light in his eyes. So he smiles softly, and follows Dean around the corner into the library.

As they approach one of the couches, Dean turns to dramatically shush him, giving him an over-exaggerated wink. He does seem a little drunk, actually, his hair sticking up weird on one side and his face pink across the cheeks, and Sam rolls his eyes affectionately and tries to prepare himself for whatever idiotic prank Dean's about to pull.

Cas is lying on the couch, apparently asleep, and Sam thinks he can see where this is going. "C'mon, Dean...what're you gonna do to him?" Cas is lying on his stomach, one arm hanging, face turned to the side, and so far Sam can't see any evidence of dicks drawn on him in Sharpie or anything, but there's really no telling. Dean shushes him viciously again.

"Don't wake him up!" Dean bends over to peer at Cas, apparently assessing his level of consciousness, then nods in satisfaction and gestures Sam closer. Now Sam's curiosity really _is_ piqued, despite his slight concern over Cas' welfare at his brother's hands. But when he comes around to look down at the sleeping angel, Dean just quietly drops to his knees and holds a hand out flat over Cas' back, whispering, "okay, okay. This might take a second, but wait for it. Just keep quiet and listen!"

"What am I listening f--"

"SHHHhhhHHHHHH SHH!"

Dean's watching Cas' face with a look that's hard to decipher, and he lowers his hand onto the angel's back --covered only, for once, in his white button-down, which is half-untucked and rumpled around his waist-- and starts to stroke between Cas' shoulder blades in a startlingly gentle, intimate motion. Sam's eyebrows shoot towards his hairline; he’s now well and truly baffled.

"Wait a sec," Dean whispers, and adjusts the motion of his hand slightly, fingers tenting as he presses the pads of them down against Cas' upper back, in a way that, frankly, Sam has never witnessed Dean touch _anyone_ , and should he even be watching this? How drunk _is_ Dean right now, exactly? It's not a sexual touch at all, but it's so soft, and Dean doesn't do _soft_ , at least not when there's a chance in a million that any living thing might be watching. 

Sam clears his throat minutely, just to give Dean the option to snap out of it, but Dean just raises one finger at him, and keeps caressing Cas. So Sam waits, and tries to concentrate on listening for whatever the hell Dean thinks he should be hearing. 

The bunker is quiet. Only the three of them are here, now. And even all the history in the place, all the deaths and fights and demon-summonings or what have you, haven't seemed to leave any ghostly calling-cards. The electricity hums a little, when you really listen for it. The fridge kicks on in the kitchen, loud enough to hear it all the way in the library; the main generator makes a sound that's more of an ever-present vibration. Sam doesn't hear anything, except his breathing and Dean's, and then, in a little bit, the sound of one of the other generators humming slowly to life.

Dean turns and grins up at him, delighted. Sam's puzzled; he's about to ask Dean if he found something other than beer stashed away in some heretofore undiscovered Men of Letters opium den or something, when he stops, listening harder. 

It's not a generator. 

It _is_ a deep, cthonic rumbling, but it doesn't have a mechanical rhythm to it at all; instead, it ebbs and pulses like something alive, though it doesn't seem to be emanating from any one point. Sam holds his breath and listens harder. The sound is, in fact, getting slightly louder, though it's still not loud -- just, _distant_ somehow, like a thunderstorm over the horizon if the thunder just kept rolling at a gentle, even, non-threatening pace.

Dean's hand scritches up towards the base of Cas' neck and the sound hitches, then continues, warm and deep and insistent. Sam can even feel the vibration of it in the air all around, a soft electrical caress that passes over and around him like a cloud.

" _What?_ " is all Sam can manage.

Dean's grin is absolutely luminous. He looks like a kid on Christmas morning. He looks ten years younger. "Right?" He whispers. " _Right?_ I'm a genius! Can you record this on your phone or something? We gotta make, like, an official entry in some Men of Letters encyclopedia or something. Thought they knew everything about everything...ha!"

Sam is starting to grin now, too, shaking his head and biting his lips to contain the laugh that wants to bubble recklessly out of him. The reality of it all hits him and it's such a ridiculously silly, _joyful_ feeling. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and turns the camera on video.

"No shit! Never before seen, uh, heard...breaking cosmic news..." he can't help but let the laughter out, softly but whole-heartedly. He sweeps the phone around the room slowly, then zooms in on Dean's beaming face for the pronouncement.

"Angels can purr!"


End file.
